


Talk

by mirokai



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 360MG format, A brief tiff they get through it, Established Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Lovers' Quarrel, M/M, Mystrade Monday Prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-19 06:07:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29746125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirokai/pseuds/mirokai
Summary: Greg and Mycroft have a bit of a quarrel.A 360MG / Mystrade Monday ficlet.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 20
Kudos: 69





	Talk

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic using the360MG format! This was a fun exercise. 
> 
> And written for the Mystrade Monday prompt "Are you going to talk to me?"  
> Thanks as always for the inspiration!

There had been a fight. First there had been a gala. Mycroft had oozed around with a fake smile and fake laugh and made vague nonsensical conversation with stuffy, obnoxious aristocrats. Greg had trailed after him, miserable and bored, and had perhaps had just a touch more scotch than was actually a good idea. When Mycroft discreetly pointed this out to him, Greg had switched to sparkling water but had bristled and fumed and been even more miserable until Mycroft said it was time to leave. 

“Well that was thoroughly horrid,” Mycroft said once they were in the back of the black car with the privacy screen up. 

“I am capable of handling myself, you know!” Greg snapped. “I didn’t need you mother henning me!”

“And I did not need you visibly intoxicated while I was working.”

It had devolved from there. 

By the time they reached the house, nothing was resolved, but they were both smarting and angry. They trudged up to the bedroom and removed their formalwear and got ready for bed in silence. As he slid on an old cotton t-shirt and flannel bottoms, Greg felt an almost physical weight lift. Perhaps the evening hadn’t been that bad. 

Greg frowned when he realized Mycroft was heading for the door instead of the bed. “Are you sleeping in the guest room?”

Mycroft turned to face him. “Are you going to talk to me?” 

Greg heaved a huge sigh. “I don't - I need more time to make sure that the words coming out of my mouth are the ones I want to say.”

“I suppose that’s for the best,” Mycroft fiddled with the hem of his silk pajama shirt. 

“But I love you, and I want to hold you tonight if you’ll let me. And we can talk in the morning?” 

Mycroft swallowed, considering, then nodded. 

They turned out the lights and climbed into bed. Mycroft lay down on his side, facing the wall, and Greg slid up to his back, molding his body around Mycroft’s and tucking his arm around the slim waist. Greg kissed the back of Mycroft’s neck, earning a squeeze on his wrist. 

“G’night, Mycroft.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. 
> 
> As always, comments are warmly and sincerely appreciated but... there's not much here to comment on? 
> 
> Also, thinking of writing this story out sans word limit. Would folks want to read that?


End file.
